


Nothing Ever Happens on Coruscant

by amukmuk



Series: Playing in the Perception Pool [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Just corrie guard boys doing wholesome corrie guard things, Other, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amukmuk/pseuds/amukmuk
Summary: Just a story about all the things that happen on Coruscant.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Original Clone Trooper Character(s), Corrie Guard Friendships, Puck & Stride
Series: Playing in the Perception Pool [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078877
Comments: 131
Kudos: 114





	1. Positive Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So after finishing "Perception" I decided to expand on their universe a little - which means a Puck and Stride miniseries of sorts. The stories probably won't be in chronological order and if you have any ideas about what happens in Coruscant/to our Corrie boys feel free to comment some ideas or send me them on tumblr @amukmuk <3

The weeks after the first battle of Geonosis had been rough to say the best, agonizing to say the worst. Clone Trooper Puck, designation CT-3041, and his batchmate CT-7891 lost everyone. They are the only survivors of their original squad and not having their other three members rallying around them feels like missing limbs. The Kaminoans trained them to accept death and move on, but there is something dizzying about expecting to see someone who has always been around and then they just… aren't. 

No longer belonging to a squad, it took Puck and ‘91 a longer time to get assigned to a battalion. Whole squads were deployed first as they were more cohesive and guaranteed success in warzones, and as just a squad of two, the two troopers didn’t think they would ever get to see action. 

And then they got their assignment. 

“Coruscant?” ‘91 whines, looking at his datapad. They are sitting in the barracks with the other splintered squads - turns out most of them are being sent to Coruscant. 

“It might not be so bad,” Puck replies. Despite everyone’s mutual assignment, no one is really talking to anyone outside of their batches. The lone survivors sit, staring dejectedly at their datapads. Puck feels a soft wave of relief for having '91 still, but it is quickly followed by a sharp sensation of guilt. 

“I have my doubts. We’re soldiers, not police droids,” he grumbles. 

“Oh come on, where is that positive attitude? You’ve always taken every new change in stride before, what happened to that?” Puck nudges his brother with his shoulder. 

‘91 looks up from his datapad. “What’d you say?”

“I asked where your positive attitude went.”

“No, no after that.”

Puck ponders for a moment. “I said you always take new changes in stride. It’s really hard to throw you off your game.” 

‘91 smirks a little. “I… I think I know what I want to be called.” 

Puck’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. For _years_ he has been trying to offer names to his brother. He had offered various animals, adjectives, and redeemable qualities about him, but nothing ever stuck. “What?” Puck asks. 

“Stride,” he smiles. 

It suddenly all clicks together. It fits him perfectly. His unshakeable brother, the one who never loses his plucky attitude, is always the first to volunteer and the first to laugh at a joke. The one who always takes it in stride. 

Puck wraps his arm around his brother’s neck and messes up his perfectly trimmed curls. “It’s perfect, Stride.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I stole this chapter title from the movie "Kelly's Heroes" where one of the characters always says, "What's with the negative waves?". 
> 
> Anyway! Thank you for reading!<3


	2. For Puck's Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was inspired by a conversation I had with @cacodaemonia about how I feel bad for Puck because his name is one letter of from mine and Fox's favorite curse word. Enjoy! :3

Honestly, Stride might have been on to something when he said that duty on Coruscant would be boring as all hell. Puck is trying to remain optimistic, but after a week of doing nothing but stacking inventory and scanning packages for the senators, he is starting to get discouraged. 

His new squad is nice enough, though; he supposes that is probably one positive thing about being assigned to home base. Hex, Pierce, and Chase are all sole survivors of dead squads, but together they are shaping up to be a pretty good team. Hex knows more about explosives than any other foot soldier trooper that he has ever met. He can calculate chemical equations in his head and due to that uncanny skill, they were able to revamp their scanning procedures, checking for biowarfare along with just plain ole explosives. 

Pierce had trained to be a field medic but failed the final exam. By sheer dumb luck, he was placed in the Coruscant Guard as a foot soldier CT because they were desperate for bodies and he was, unfortunately, a living body. Because of his exam failure, he wasn’t deployed to Geonosis, and he will never forgive himself for it. Survivor’s guilt is one hell of a sickness. 

Chase is kriffing insane, Puck is almost certain of it. They have been here a week and he has already gotten a formal write-up from Lieutenant Thire who caught him hot wiring speeders. He claimed he knew how to make them faster, but Thire was not impressed. 

Despite all of this, though, Puck wouldn’t have it any other way. At least he and Stride are together. He looks over at his brother who is scanning a crate on the other side of the hangar. Things could have been so much worse. 

“How many boxes do we have left?” Stride’s tinny voice comes over the comm. 

“About four,” Puck answers, taking a look around. Four to scan, label, and store. It would take them thirty minutes tops to complete. 

“How mad would you be if I ditched you?”

“What else could you possibly be doing?” He asks, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. 

“I really, _really_ gotta take a shit.” 

Puck snorts. “What, drink too much caf?”

“I don’t know who made the caf this morning, but it was fucking strong and now I’m shaky and can feel a Coruscant-shattering turd just waiting to exit my bowels.” 

“For fuck’s sake you’re nasty. Get out of here and don’t rip ass on your way.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want a sample?”

“Out!” Puck turns off his comm so that Stride can’t hear him laugh. Stride scurries out of the hangar and Puck settles back into his routine. He circles the crate, holding the scanner out to get all angles of the box. When the green light flashes, he prints a sticker for it and slaps it on the left side of the box. He pushes it onto the hovercart and hauls it down to its new home and loads it onto the shelf. 

He is making his trek back to the new inventory when the door to the hangar opens and a commander walks in. Wait, he eyes the commander’s _kama_ and helmet only to realize that it is Commander Fox. _Thee_ Commander Fox. Puck hasn’t had the privilege to meet him yet, but he has heard stories. This man briefs the Chancellor himself and is absolutely _fearless_. The story goes that he took down an entire Geonosian battalion with just an empty blaster and his bare hands. 

“PUCK!” The commander bellows and Puck drops his scanner and snaps to attention. 

“Yes, sir?” Puck keeps his back straight, his head up and tries to steady his hammering heart. The Commander knows his name, as it turns out, and he does _not_ sound happy about it. Puck quickly flips through everything he has done this week and the only thing he can think that he has done wrong is let Stride go so he can use the privy. If Stride gets him trouble he is going to kick his ass, batchmate or not. 

The commander, rigid as a board with his shoulders scrunched up to his ears, slowly turns toward him. “What did you say, trooper?” 

Oh shit. Oh fuck. The commander’s voice is deep and deadly and Puck is beginning to regret ever being decanted and stationed on this polluted rock. “Y-you said my name, sir, and I asked if you needed anything, sir.” 

Commander Fox stalks over to him. “What is your name, trooper?” 

“P-puck, sir.” He is not ashamed to admit that his voice cracked. The fear of every regulation and a deadly commander has been struck into him and if said commander chooses to punish him with a quick snap of his neck, he would welcome Death’s sweet embrace. 

Commander Fox visibly relaxes. “At ease, trooper. I think there has been a misunderstanding.” 

Puck relaxes and tries to calm his racing heart. He is going to have to wash his gloves, his hands are so sweaty that he can feel the moist fabric clinging to his skin uncomfortably. “S-sir?”

Fox clears his throat. “I said fuck, not your name. I’m sorry I scared you… I thought this hangar was empty.” 

Puck relaxes further. “Everything okay, sir?” 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. You’re new, right? I saw your transfer file come across my desk.” 

“Sir, yessir. I, um, served on Geonosis and got transferred here after I lost most of my squad.” 

Commander Fox nods as if he understands the pain of losing a whole squad and maybe he does. Puck knows that the command classers get split up after graduation, so maybe all of his batchmates were killed, too. “Welcome to Coruscant, kid. Everything going okay?” 

“Yessir. No complaints here.” 

The commander nods once more, rocking back minutely on his heels and tucking his arms around his back. “Good to meet you, Puck. I’m sorry I haven’t had the opportunity to come by and introduce myself. I hope your transition here has been smooth and painless.”

“It has been, sir.”

“Good to hear. As you were, trooper.” 

Puck stiffens and salutes him. “It’s been an honor to meet you, sir.” 

Commander Fox returns his salute and butterflies swirl in his stomach. “Likewise.” And with that the commander turns and takes his leave, _kama_ swooshing gloriously. 

Stride is never going to believe this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have any ideas about what would happen to our Corrie boys/on Coruscant feel free to send me prompts in the comments or on tumblr @amukmuk.
> 
> Now with a visual [summary](https://purgetroopercody.tumblr.com/post/642032161155940354/a-condensed-visual-summary-of-chapter-2-of)!


	3. Heard it through the Grapevine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romeo and Tango squad get caught gossiping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Fox has a sort of... Chuck Norris reputation among new recruits. Which... is why I spent a solid 30 minutes looking at Chuck Norris jokes so I could write one about Fox for this chapter. Enjoy!

Admittedly, Puck’s squad - Romeo Squad - is neglecting stacking ordinance. It’s just… a bounty hunter showed up and tried to kidnap a senator last night and Commander Fox happened to be the one to have thwarted the attempt. The entire mess hall had been ablaze with recountings of it. Now, in the middle of the afternoon his squad and Tango squad are loitering around the boxes that need counted, labeled, and stored, exchanging tales they have heard about the ever elusive Commander Fox. He’s incredibly hands-on. Puck isn’t entirely certain if the man ever sleeps because he is _always_ there. No matter the hour, no matter the incident, Commander Fox is there leading and guiding his men. He just never bothers talking to the lowly peons that are gathered here today. 

“I heard that on Geonosis he killed one hundred and fifty drones with his _bare hands_ ,” Trapper says. Trapper is from Tango squad and bleaches his hair. Puck wouldn’t mind dying his hair, but he is a little scared of such a commitment. He is still kind of new and if the look ends up being a debacle, he doesn’t want to be known as the kid who went bald because he bleached his hair too strong on the first go… like Trapper did. 

“That’s crazy,” Hex comments. Hex has an awesome tattoo on the side of his head in Mando’a that reads “It is a good day for someone else to die”. It wraps around his skull and he shaves a thick line in his dark hair so that the tattoo is properly showcased. 

“I heard the _commander_ is kriffin’ crazy,'' Reese, also a member of Tango squad, notes. “Did you hear about what happened last night?”

“That he stopped a bounty hunter? This man is a fucking _legend_ ,” Chase sighs dreamily. “I wonder what mods he has done to his bike. I bet he has modified it. Standard issue bikes go sooo slooow. You couldn’t catch a Hutt on those hunks of junk.” 

“No you karkin’ di’kut,” Reese interrupts Chase before he goes on a tangent about how more effective the Corrie Guard would be if they upgraded their bikes. “I heard the commander jumped off the roof of a thirty-two-story building so he could catch the hunter riding by on a speeder below.”

“That’s such fucking banthashit!” Pierce exclaims. 

“No.” They all freeze upon hearing the deep, gravely voice from behind them. “It was actually thirty-six stories.” 

They all swallow deeply and turn slowly to see Commander Fox looming behind them, helmet clipped to his belt, cup of steaming caf in his hand. “Good afternoon, sir,” Chase speaks up. 

That trooper has a set of massive durasteel balls. 

“Chase, right?” The commander nods his chin up before taking a long drag from his caf without wincing. It looks about as hot as a Mustafar lava spore. Puck supposes that rumor is probably true, too. That Commander Fox doesn’t wait for his caf to cool, he simply wills it into submission with a hefty gulp. 

“Yessir,” Chase gives him a lopsided grin. 

Massive. Durasteel. Balls. 

“I bypassed the mainframe and turbocharged the engine.” 

Chase looks like he might faint. “How fast have you gotten it to?”

Commander Fox takes another sip of caf, but Puck can see the impish delight dancing in his eyes. “160,” he answers smoothly after he swallows. 

No, now Chase looks like he is going to faint. “That’s so fucking cool. I mean-” he blushes. “That’s great, sir. Strategically I think having faster speeders would greatly benefit the success rate of catching perps.”

Fox arches an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yessir, that’s what I told Thire--”

“I saw the Captain’s report.” 

Captain? Last time Puck heard, Thire was a Lieutenant. Guess he missed that barrack-wide email. Between all the polluted air and water advisories, it’s a wonder Puck actually sees any of the important messages. 

“Right, yessir. Sorry, sir.” 

The commander’s face is a wall of ‘unimpressed’. “If you’re interested in working on the speeders I suggest getting with Senior Mechanic Gear. He’d probably love to pick your brain about improving the speeds of our bikes _safely_.” 

Chase nearly starts vibrating. “Sir, yessir!” 

Fox turns to the rest of the awestruck troopers. “Is there anything else I can address while I’m here?” He takes another drag of his caf, eyeing them over the rim. 

“Did you really fight off an entire battalion of Geonosians with your bare hands?” Hex blurts. 

For the first time since standing here, emotion flashes over Fox’s face. “What do you think?” He asks. 

“I think you did everything you could to protect your men,” Stride interjects, “sir.”

One corner of his lips draw up. “Finish stacking ordinance and report to command at 1630. I need two squadrons for a patrol of the parking garages at the Rotunda.” 

They all snap to attention. “Sir yes, sir!” 

“Oh, and if I catch you all loitering the next time I come through here you’re going to clean the latrines with your own toothbrushes. You can screw off when you’re not on the clock. Am I understood?”

“Y-yes sir!” They sputter and watch him saunter off. 

“I bet he gets laid all the damn time,” Trapper mutters under his breath. “I wanna be that cool.”

Pierce slaps his hand on Trapper’s pauldron. “And that, vod, is why you haven’t been laid.” 

“Oh fuck off! Like you know anything about a female’s anatomy!” 

“First of all, you aren’t going to get far calling them ‘females’...” Puck tunes them out and gets back to work. The faster he gets this done the faster he can get ready for his first ever patrol. He glances up at Stride, who flashes him a quick grin before shoving on his bucket and getting to work. Finally, _finally_ , they are going to do something _exciting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *makes up Chuck Norris jokes*  
> *makes up random parts of speeder bikes*
> 
> (Oh and Puck does eventually dye his hair. He has red hair in "Perception", and that chapter will be included at some point).
> 
> This entire story is about to be multiple chapters of just pure bullshit. I hope you all are ready XD Thanks for reading! <333


	4. The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a first time for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader warnings!! There is a brief mention of nudity at the end of this chapter.

“My name is Lieutenant Flip and this is Sergeant Dodger. As a part of Commander Fox’s new patrol safety initiative two individual squads will be combined into teams and execute their patrol in pairs. We will be your point of contact for anything you need. Administrative or health concerns come to me, supplies go to Dodger.”

Dodger crosses his arms and nods once in agreement. 

“We are going to be patrolling the parking garage attached to the Rotunda. It has fifty-five floors and we have five pairs so each of you are going to take eleven floors and work through all the parked speeders. Give tickets to anyone parked illegally and scan for any explosives. Dodger and I will be on floor one, checking everyone entering the Rotunda for weapons. We will be using comm channel six. Is everything clear?

Romeo and Tango squad snap to attention. “Sir, yes sir!” 

“Great. Now with the official business aside. We need to think of a team name.” Flip has an Aiwha painted over the top of his helmet, its eyes are just above the visor of his helmet. 

“What about Patched? All of us, except Puck and Stride come from different batches,” Reese suggests.

Flip looks at everyone. “Votes?” 

Everyone nods in agreement. If they are anything, they are a rag-tag bunch, but then again so is everyone else in the Coruscant Guard. 

“Okay, cool. I’ll submit it to command. Your squad names will stay the same, by the way. Any questions?”

“No, sir!” They shout. 

“Great, let’s move out.”

~

Puck and Stride move along, scanning all of these insanely expensive speeders. Neither of them have ever met a Senator before, but Puck is willing to bet that they have enough money to buy at least four or five of him. 

“Woah,” Stride says walking up to a speeder bike. It is a _really_ nice speeder bike. It is Corrie Guard red with glitter flaked in the paint and shines brighter than their armor. “Check this out.” 

“I wish Chase was here, he’d have an eopie,” Puck comments. 

Stride scoffs. “I bet he’s drooling about something else on one of the floors he is searching.” 

“You’re probably right,” Puck sighs and looks around. He has never seen so many speeders in one place. So far they have only printed two tickets, meaning that everyone who is here is meant to be here. “What do you think the senators are like?” 

Stride shrugs. “I dunno. I think they’re probably nice. I mean, they’re senators, right? If they didn’t like people they wouldn’t be working so hard to pass laws and stuff.” 

“You’re probably right,” Puck sighs again and moves along. 

“Are you feeling alright? That’s the second time you’ve said I’m right in like ten minutes.” 

“I just have a bad feeling.”

“Always with the negative waves,” Stride chuckles. “Come on. If you could have any of these speeders which one would you want?” 

Puck eyes the speeders. “I dunno, maybe that blue one?” 

Stride gasps in mock offense, “And forsake the Corrie Guard Red? The betrayal.”

They hear it at the same time, a high gasp followed by a whine. The both tense and look toward a speeder in the back rocking a little. 

Puck signs, _Command. Advance. Caution._

Stride nods and returns, _Understood. Me. Right._

Puck nods and signs, _Understood. Me. Left._

The split, Puck moving to the left side of the speeder, Stride to the right. They draw their rifles, set to stun of course, and leap into view. 

“Nobody move! Coruscant Guard!” Puck declares and a woman shrieks. He adjusts his grip on his rifle, only to nearly drop it when he realizes what is _really_ happening. 

“Get out of here you stupid Clone!” She screeches. 

She is topless, a sight that he never thought he would see, and the man underneath her has his pants around his ankles. 

Puck’s brain goes entirely blank. 

“Are you deaf? She said get out of here!” The man bellows. 

“Right,” Stride says, coming to his senses first. “Uh, sorry about the intrusion. Make sure to stay safe?”

“OUT!” They yell in unison and Puck and Stride turn tail and run. 

They walk along in silence for a minute when their helmet comms chirp. 

“Puck, Stride. Check in.” 

“All clear,” Strides voice cracks. “Proceeding with next floor.” 

“Copy. Stay safe out there, boys.” 

Puck and Stride share a look before bursting into laughter. Puck bends over, grabbing his knees. “Did you see their faces?” 

“No,” Stride wheezes. “I had a face full of twi’lek tit. I thought I was going to drop dead.” 

“Fuck,” Puck laughs and blinks back the tears welling in his eyes. “That guy was pissed.”

“I’d be pissed too! She was gorgeous. Dang. I didn’t think seeing a naked lady for the first time would go like that, but I’m honestly not surprised it did.” 

Puck snorts and then has a sudden realization. “Trapper is going to be so pissed.” 

Stride perks up, too. “Oh we have to think of a better story to tell him.”

They start walking, scanning speeders and weaving a more elaborate tale to tell Trapper. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. The amount of restraint I exercised to not name Flip "Dan" so that we could have a Lieutenant Dan in this fic was... unhealthy. And I haven't even seen Forest Gump.
> 
> If you feel like, comment the tall tales you think the boys told Trapper XD He was the trooper in the previous chapter complaining about not getting laid lololol


	5. The Coruscant Guard Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jello needs disposed of and a footbath needs a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a true story.

Trapper, with his horridly bleached hair, stands upon one of the tables in the mess. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today for the disposal of almost-expired jello cups.” 

Around the table are the members of Romeo, Sierra, Tango, Victor, and Whiskey squads.

“It was brought to the attention of those of us banished to the kitchen that these jello cups were to be tossed as they are expiring today. Instead, we welcome you to the first ever Coruscant Guard Games. The rules are simple. The tribute who consumes the most jello cups within sixty seconds wins. Now. Have the squads present and participating selected their sacrificial eopies?” 

Romeo squad certainly has, not-so-gently nudging Chase to the front. The bucketbrain knows how to put some food away, plus he hardly ever chews, making it the perfect fit in all regards. 

“You are all going _down_ ,” Chase looks at the other troopers standing around. 

Jek from Sierra is bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands. “In your dreams, gearhead.” 

Chase bristles and Stride steps up behind him, patting his shoulder. “Eyes on the prize.”

The first place winner will be the proud owner of one of those fancy foot-massaging tubs. A trooper from Victor found it out on patrol and Chase fixed it up, but since it seemed a ‘group effort’ - though it should be going to Chase, he fixed it for kriff’s sake - a competition was deemed the only way for it to be properly given ownership. 

Chase breathes in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Hex grumbles from between Puck and Stride, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Alright from Romeo Squad, we have Chase.” Romeo squad cheers and claps. “From Sierra, we have Jek.” More cheers. “Hailing from my very own squad we have the one and only Reese.” Everyone boos and Reese flips them all a rude gesture. Victor Whiskey and squads put up Hazard and Radar respectively. “Troopers take your marks,” Trapper announces, motioning to the tables covered in red jello cups. 

Each of the five troopers step up to a table. 

The doors to the mess whirl open and everyone freezes. 

It’s two of the commanders and the captain. 

“What is going on here?” Captain Thire eyes all of them. Stride thinks that Captain Thire, due to being the lowest ranked commanding officer, has been put in charge of all the shinies, poor mistake of decantment. 

“Disposal of the required jello cups, sir,” Trapper smiles from his place upon the table. 

Thire looks like he might strangle someone, but Thorn steps up with a grin. “Oh? And how do you plan on disposing of them?”

“By consuming them as quickly as possible in order to determine the winner of this repaired foot-bath-thing,” Trapper motions to said contraption. 

Stride can practically feel the relaxation after a hard day of patrolling. GAR issued socks _technically_ do the job of covering their feet. But after his first day of patrol, he had two of the nastiest blisters he has ever seen on his heels. 

The three commanding officers all exchange a look. Thorn steps up to the sixth table. “Rules?” He asks, setting his bucket aside. 

“No rules, just consume as much as possible within sixty seconds and keep it down.”

Thorn nods. “Alright. Start your timer.” 

“Everyone,” Trapper straightens. “Three… Two… One. Start!” 

Chase rips off the foil and slurps down his first jello, not chewing of course. Jek starts puncturing every foil, but not slurping. And, Stride looks over at the Commander, and has to look again.

“Puck,” Stride elbows his batchmate, “look at the commander” 

Five seconds in and the man already has ten jellos down. “Holy shit,” he gasps. 

“It has to be because he’s a CC,” Stride whispers. 

Time flies by, Chase slurping as fast as he can with them cheering him on. Behind Commander Thorn, Commander Stone and Captain Thire are yelling at him to go faster like he could possibly go _any_ faster. When the timer stops, it is obvious who the winner is. Commander Thorn steps up and claims his prize, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, men. Let us know when the next Corrie Guard Games are, I’d love to wipe the floor with you all again,” he says resting the foot-bath-thing on his hip. As he walks by, he pats Chase on the shoulder. “Better luck next time, kid.”

Puck and Stride take a moment to look at the tables. Chase would have won if their stupid commanders hadn’t shown up. And to think they had washed _and_ dried their towels so that they got extra fluffy. They were gonna sit around in their towels, eat their snacks that they have been saving and take turns soaking their aching feet. 

“All my hard work, just out the view port,” Chase whines before looking up at Trapper. “If you would have let me keep it the commanders wouldn’t have karking got it! Now it’s confiscated, you stupid bucketbrain!” He shouts. 

Stride grabs his shoulders, holding him back. “It’s okay buddy. We’ll get our revenge.”

Puck smirks and Stride can tell that he is already plotting. 

“Yeah,” Chase sniffles. “I suppose so.” 

“Don’t worry, Chase,” Puck grins, tossing his arm around Chase’s shoulder and guiding them from the mess. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeah?” Chase looks over at him. 

“Oh yeah.”

Stride grins. This is about to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Next chapter will be a little more serious, but I've been having fun writing shenanigans. 
> 
> If you have anything you'd like to see, comment or send me an ask on tumblr and I'll try to incorporate it into a chapter. <3333


	6. Come Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck and Stride save a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning! This chapter features talk of suicide and jumping from a building. If you'd like to skip this chapter, totally understandable, but I will put some chapter notes at the bottom giving a quick summary just in case.

Puck and Stride walk along Sector G-33, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Captain Thire had warned them about syndicate violence increasing through this sector. Spice trafficking is inevitable, he had said, but there is never a reason for a civvie’s life to be in danger in their own backyard. 

So they patrol. With aching feet and blisters large enough to have their own sector designation, they patrol. Puck and Stride haven’t had any incidents yet - neither of them are certain whether that is a good or bad thing - but one of their squadmates, Pierce, is in medical after getting slashed by a prostitute. He had tried to help her get away from her pimp, but as it turns out she didn’t _want_ to get away and sliced him across the neck to make her escape. 

Trapper, Pierce’s patrol mate, has not taken it easily. He was torn between chasing after her so that she could be charged with assault and hanging back to put pressure on Pierce’s wound. He ended up choosing duty over brotherhood and for that he got a firm talking to from the Captain. 

As it turns out, people who abuse clones can’t be charged with anything. In any instance where a brother has been attacked by someone, always see to the brother’s medical care. 

Neither Puck nor Stride can think of a single instance where they would pick justice over each other, but maybe they just haven’t been put in that position yet. 

“Have you heard any updates about Pierce?” Stride asks as they walk, rifles at the ready, scanning the streets. They are currently passing through the square where there is a small fountain and various civvies loitering about. 

“Nah. He almost had his artery sliced open. He lost a lot of blood. I think he’ll back tomorrow or the day after for light duty,” Puck comments, scanning the crowd. 

“Poor guy,” Stride mumbles under his breath. It could have been any one of them. It could have been Puck. Stride pushes that thought away and tries to focus. 

Puck is about to say something else, when a woman shrieks. They pinpoint her immediately and scan her surroundings. No threats. 

But she keeps shrieking, pointing up at the building closest to the square. There is a woman standing on the edge of the building. They don’t say a word to each other, they just sprint towards the building and up the stairs. They could have taken the lift, but they are _clones_. They are bred for this and can climb stairs faster than a lift can carry them. Three floors from the top Puck breaks off to go through the landing door. 

Stride carries on, knowing that his patrol mate is preparing for the worst. If this lady plans to jump, Puck is going to try and catch her. Stride bursts through the door leading to the roof and slowly moves to the ledge. There she is. 

She looks like a wraith. Some cultures believe in apparitions warning them of death; they are said to be pale and hollow and this poor Twi’lek looks exactly like that. She is young, but her orange skin is pale and grey-tinted. Her long white dress billows in the artificial breeze of the city. She is standing on his side of the railing, peering over. 

“Don’t bother,” she says, speaking to the air in front of her. “You aren’t going to change my mind.”

“I was kinda hoping that maybe you could tell me what brings you up here?” Stride takes a tentative step toward her. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Try me?” 

She whips around, her lekku swinging with the momentum. Her dark brown eyes are bloodshot and she has a massive bruise over the left side of her face. “I’m pregnant.”

“That’s…” That’s normally good right? “Congratulations,” he croaks. 

She scoffs. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” 

He sets down his rifle. He could stun her, take her somewhere to get help, but she’s pregnant and… while he’s no medic, he doesn’t think that would be very good for her baby. 

“You’re right. I’m just a clone. I don’t know a whole lot about… nat born things. Why don’t you explain it to me?” 

She backs up against the railing and Stride puts his hands up in a placating manner. “You aren’t going to change my mind,” she sobs.

“That’s okay. That’s okay. I… I know where you’re coming from here, yeah?” 

She scoffs. “I doubt that.”

Stride removes his helmet and sets it next to his rifle. Two, count them, two regulations he has broken tonight. He can hardly even bring himself to care. “I don’t know where _you_ are coming from, of course. Your battles are your own. I’m just saying I’ve been here. Except I wanted to put a blaster in my mouth and pull the trigger.” 

She eyes his blaster. 

“Don’t get any ideas. It’s set to stun.” 

She huffs and turns to look back at the city. “My boyfriend left me. My… My parents were slaves. They wanted me to be better than they were and yet I’m the abandoned girlfriend of this sector's largest drug dealer. When he found out I was knocked up, he said it couldn’t be his and beat me and kicked me out. I can’t take care of this baby. I have nothing left. I’m tired. I’m so tired of living on this fucking rock and not having any hope for the future.” 

“I know. _That_ I know. Not the bit about the parents. But… I’m not even a person if we’re being technical.” 

“No offense, but I don’t want to listen to your problems. I have enough of my own.” 

Right. Right. Okay. He can do this. Focus. “I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Kudos. You’re a better fucking person than I am. Shocker.”

“Remember. Not a person.” He takes a step closer. 

She looks over her shoulder. “You look awful human to me.” 

He shrugs. “I guess you can say my donor was a good lookin’ guy.”

She snorts. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“You should see some of my brothers. One bleached his hair. Can you imagine that? Such a beautiful complexion as mine with yellow-ass hair? He could stand on a tarmac and guide ships to land with it.” 

She sobs a wet laugh and he takes another step closer. 

“What’s your name?” He asks. 

“Why should I tell you?”

“I dunno. I figured if I’m going to spend my Friday night on a roof with someone I should know their name.”

“Shouldn’t you take me to dinner first?”

“I’d love to, except I don’t get paid. So…” he trails off. “My name is Stride.” 

“That’s a funny name.” 

He nods. “Not as funny as some others I’ve heard.”

She turns to look over her shoulder again. “Like what?” 

“My best friend’s name is Puck.”

She snorts. “My name is Shara.” 

Stride nods. They’re making it somewhere. “Nice to meet you.” 

She doesn’t say anything, just turns to look back at the city. “I’m sorry.”

He tenses. “For what?” He isn’t close enough to grab her before she jumps. 

“You seem nice. Like you want to save me. But you can’t save something irreparable.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“I may not answer it.” 

“That’s okay… Why can’t you talk to your parents? I don’t have any… so I don’t really know how that works.” He takes another step closer to her. 

She is quiet for a long moment and he’s starting to think she isn’t going to answer when she finally rasps, “I don’t know.” 

“You-you don’t know?” 

She shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself. He wishes he had a jacket or something to offer her. She looks cold. The breeze is cool on his face, but she is wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. 

“I haven’t spoken to them since I dropped out of school.”

“Why’d you drop out?”

“I met Lakk, the drug dealer. He promised me the world… Turns out he’s a dick like the rest of the men on this stupid fucking rock. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Then I just… figured I couldn’t go back. I’m… I’m an embarrassment.” 

“No you’re not. What’s embarrassing is having a brother named one letter from fuck and another with flourescent hair. You… you have so much to live for,” he swallows. “You look pretty young to me. I’m sure your parents would love to see you again.”

“You don’t know anything!” She shouts and grips the railing. 

“Hey! No! No you’re right. I’m just a dumb clone. Just… just hang out with me a little longer?”

“Why?” 

“I like talking to you.”

“Why are you up here?” 

Why is he up here? He saw someone who needed help and he didn’t even think about it. The only reason _he_ is up here and not Puck is because Puck knows he’s better at smooth talking than he is. Puck is many things, but eloquent he is not. “You seemed like you needed someone to talk to.”

“Well I’m done talking.” 

“Wait!” He darts closer and she throws a leg over the railing. 

“Don’t come any closer!” She shrieks and he can hear the crowd of onlookers yelling in terror. 

“Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up. “Aren’t you going to ask why I didn’t pull the trigger?” 

She rolls her eyes and tosses her lekku over her shoulders. “I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Because I couldn’t leave my family. I couldn’t do it. Puck and I… we are the only survivors of our batch. If… If I pulled the trigger, he’d be forced to walk through the rest of his life _alone_. I couldn’t do that to him. I promise that even if you haven’t talked to your parents in years they still love you. Family… Family is the only thing we have in this fucked up galaxy. And, hell, even if you don’t want to talk to your parents, family can be whoever the fuck you want it to be. Buy a ticket to Naboo. Go be a farmer and befriend some trees, I don’t know. All I’m saying is that the life you have is worth living. You just have to believe me. Please.” He holds his hand out to her. “We can walk together down those stairs and… and I’ll do everything I can to protect you. I just need you to take my hand.” 

Tears well up and spill over. “I’m sorry.” 

She lets go and Stride darts to the railing.

~

Puck pounds on the door directly below where the woman is standing. An elderly woman holding a cat answers and Puck straightens. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But can I use your balcony? It’s official Coruscant Guard business.” 

She sputters, but Puck is already walking into her apartment, to her back door and balcony. He steps out onto the balcony and looks around. He doesn’t have a good look of above him; there is another balcony on the floor above. He can’t fit through the rungs of the railing, either. That leaves him one choice. 

He loads his grappling hook into his rifle and fires it at the wall of the apartment. It pierces the duracrete. He tugs on the line to make sure it's sturdy and says a quick prayer to whatever is listening that it is strong enough to hold his and this woman’s weight as he connects the line to his belt.

“What are you doing, clone?” The old woman asks and her tooka hisses at him. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Puck says. “But some civvie is about to jump off this roof and I don’t quite feel like scraping Twi’leki brains off the duracrete below tonight. I’m sure the Guard will reimburse you for the puncture hole.” 

She sputters again. “Your commander _will_ hear about this.” She turns back into her apartment, no doubt to call the guard office. 

“Good fucking luck,” Puck mutters underneath his breath, peering over the railing. “Didn’t even ask for my fucking number.” He climbs over the railing and lowers himself down, sliding his feet between the grates. “What’s she gonna say? ‘Oh that man that looks like the rest of your men talked about scraping brains off the duracrete’?” He lets go of the railing, hanging on with just his ankles, core strength and will power, and peers past the other balcony. 

Fuck.

The jumper is hanging onto the railing. Puck crunches up and grabs the railing of the balcony. He takes a few breaths to keep the blood from rushing to his head and slides back down. 

She jumps. 

Her white gown billows around her and Puck stretches himself as far as he can. Her body collides with his with more force than he is anticipating. His back wrenches at an excruciating angle and his feet are yanked through the grate until they are both free-falling, her wrapped in his arms. In the brief moment where he doubts the integrity of his grappling hook, he rolls so that if they hit the duracrete, she will land on top of him. 

The line goes taut.

They are swinging fifteen stories in the air, her wrapped awkwardly in his arms and him thanking the engineering of his belt loops. 

She starts sobbing. “You caught me.” 

“Of course I caught you. You were fucking stupid to jump in the first place,” he pants. His back really fucking hurts. He probably should have hung face first from the balcony, but hindsight is always 20/20. 

She sobs again. “Is your name Puck?” 

“What makes you ask that?”

“You have an amazing brother. He loves you very much.” 

They are swinging freely, tethered at his hips and he can feel the plastoid digging in uncomfortably. “Yeah, well if he really loves me, he’ll get us down from here. Not to tell you too much information, but this plastoid is really starting to ride up.” 

She laughs. 

“Oh sure. Laugh it up. But next time you’re hanging by _your_ belt loops, tell me how nice it feels.” He knows he is hamming it up, just a little. But this always works for Stride. When Stride cries, Puck never, _ever_ lets him go to sleep until he starts laughing. 

Turns out his methods also work on hysterical Twi’lek women, too. 

~

Stride bounds down three flights of stairs and flies down the hall to the balcony directly below where he was at. He pounds on the door and an elderly woman on the phone answers the door. “Not another one of you.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. It’s official Coruscant Guard business.” He pushes past her and to the balcony. 

“I will have you know I’m on a call with your commanding officer!”

“I’m sure you are,” Stride mutters as he peers over the edge. He sobs a laugh. Dangling by his belt is Puck, holding Shara. Of course, no matter what happens, Puck is always there to catch all the pieces. “How’s the weather down there?” Stride calls. 

“Why don’t you come down here and find out?” Puck shouts back. 

Stride guffaws and flies out of the apartment and to the one below so that he can swing them to safety. As strong as he may be, there is no way he was going to be able to pull them up. Not without possibly ruining the integrity of the grapple. 

He pounds on the old lady’s downstairs neighbor’s door and is met by another elderly human. The man is also on a call, much to Stride’s surprise. “You! Clone! One of you is just dangling out there like a caught trout and he’s scaring off all the pigeons! Tell him to scram!” 

Stride holds up his hand. “I’ll get them down right away, sir. That’s why I’m here. May I use your balcony?”

“Of course! Just mind the bird feeders!” 

Stride rushes onto the balcony sighs a relief at seeing them still dangling there. “Puck!” Stride tosses him his grappling line and Puck snatches it out of the air and secures it to his belt. 

“Good to go!” He gives Stride a thumbs up and Stride starts pulling them over to the railing. 

They fall in a heap. 

Shara wipes her eyes when she sits up. “Thank you… thank you for saving my life. I… You were right. As soon as I jumped I regretted it. Thank you.” She leans over and kisses both of their helmets. “I owe you both a great debt.” 

Stride can feel a blush rising to his cheeks. “Just doin’ our jobs ma’am.”

Puck nods. “You’ll be alright, kid.” He rubs her back. “We’ve all been there.” 

“Get off my balcony you… youths!” The old man shouts. “You’re scaring my pigeons!”

The three of them erupt in laughter and only stop when the man turns a worrying shade of purple. Puck and Stride pull Shara to her feet and escort her to the ground floor. Puck is limping a little, but Stride decides he’ll ask him about it later. When they exit the building, they hand her off to the medic awaiting them - more corrie guards have shown up, thankfully. Or, they think thankfully until they see the Captain with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Commander Fox wants to see you in his office, forthwith.” 

“Yessir.” They mutter.

~

They both sit in the Coruscant Guard office lobby. Fort is glaring at them from behind the counter that holds all of his comm equipment. 

“Rough night?” Puck asks, cheeky grin on his face. 

“Thanks to the both of you,” Fort grumbles. 

“Our asses are going to be busted down to stacking ordinance again,” Puck mutters to Stride. 

“I think we’ll be lucky if that happens,” he returns. 

Puck whips his head over. “Are you… Are you saying we’re going to get decommissioned?” 

Stride shrugs. “I dunno. All I can think about is how we broke regs.”

“Which ones?” Puck prides himself on having almost the whole thing memorized, but he knows Stride _has_ the whole manual memorized. 

He counts on his fingers. “We split up. We broke into civvie homes without proper docs. We left our weapons unattended. I took off my bucket and you defaced civvie property.”

“We’re fucked,” Puck’s voice cracks, head falling against the duracrete wall of the lobby.

“It’s been nice fighting by your side, vod’ika.”

“I’m older than you,” Puck protests. 

“Commander Fox will see you now,” Fort says. “Last office on your right.” 

They stand and make their way back. It’s like walking to their deaths. Puck swallows and knocks on the door. 

“Enter.” They hear from within. 

They do. His office is small. He has a desk and datapad shelf, along with a few filing cabinets. But the only chair is the one in which he sits currently. He stands and they fall in under his steely gaze. 

He doesn’t tell them to be at ease and that is the first sign that the shit is about to hit the proverbial fan. 

“I read Captain Thire’s report about this evening.” 

“Sir, we can explain,” Puck begins. 

Fox holds up his hand and Puck’s protests die. Stride swallows and finds a point on the datapad shelf to stare at, just past Fox’s head. 

“You both ran up about twenty flights of stairs to aid a distressed civilian. You both put your personal safety at risk. You split up - my cardinal rule and you disregard it without hesitation.” His voice is serious and deadly and they both stare straight ahead, willing themselves not to wince. All they ever wanted to do was impress their commander. He is everything they want to be, yet here they are, getting a dressing down of a lifetime. “Stride, you took off your bucket. Puck, you put yourself in a compromised position. You both left your firearms unattended. _And_ you both used inappropriate language with civvies. That right there is enough to send you both back to Kamino.” 

They wince. 

“But… I’ve never seen a braver pair.” They both look to him and he gives them a small nod of approval. “Being a trooper on Coruscant… is nothing like what they prepared us for on Kamino. In war, it is black and white - so long as you keep your blaster pointed in the right direction, you’re doing okay. Here, on Coruscant, we exist in variants of grey. No one is good or bad here. Sure, there are Seppies every once in a while and bounty hunters, but what about the people who fall in between?” Fox takes a breath. “I need you to know that I don’t condone breaking regs. Your safety matters to me above all else. And you will receive your due punishment for such. But… something needs to be said about two men willing to put it all on the line to save someone. So, I’m promoting you both. Corporal Puck, Corporal Stride, you are both to report to KP bright and early in the morning.”

They both let out the breath they have been holding. “Sir, I don’t know what to say,” Stride breathes. 

“How about ‘thank you’ and ‘we will continue to work hard without putting our own shebs on the line’?”

“Yessir. We will. Thank you,” Puck nods. 

“Oh and Puck. Go to medical. Limping doesn’t make you seem tough.” 

“Yessir.” 

“Stride, go with him and make sure he doesn’t fall over on his way.” 

“Yessir.” 

“Dismissed. _Corporals_.”

They salute their CO and, with a smirk, he returns their salute and sits back down at his desk. 

~

_Many months later_

“Corporals Puck and Stride, you are needed at the front desk.”

Said corporals both groan and press their faces further into their cots. They had a patrol late into the night… morning. The sun was well past the horizon by the time they got back to home base and into their beds. In fact, they are both certain that they have only been _in_ their beds for a couple of hours. 

“I didn’t know Fort had a whole ass PA system,” Puck grumbles. 

“I just want to know what the heck he needs. We just got back.” Stride hangs off the top bunk to look down at his brother. 

Puck buries his head in the crook of his elbow. He has always slept on his stomach, head buried in his arms. “You go. Find out. Report back to me.”

Stride slides down the ladder and kicks him in the butt. “Come on, di’kut, let’s go. 

“But _sleeeeeep_ ,” he groans. 

“Come on. You’re not going to be able to fall back asleep at this rate.” Stride gets into his footlocker and starts putting on his armor. 

“Oh yes I can.”

“Come on lazy daisy.”

“For the last time, using a term that some civvie kid taught you does not make you cool.” Puck gets up and gets into his footlocker. 

“If it irritates you enough to get up, I think I’ll keep using it.” 

Puck only grumbles in response. 

When they are both in their full kit, buckets tucked under their arms, they make their way to the front desk. 

“I’m sorry they’re taking so long,” Fort tells a family of Twi’leks at the counter. “They had a patrol late last night and just got back. If you want, I can take a message.”

“That’s okay,” Stride says. “What can we do to help you?” 

The orange Twi’lek wearing a bright yellow dress turns and smiles at him. Her lekku are bound in a leather almost the same shade as her eyes. In her arms is a small bundle of blankets. “Hi,” she smiles. On one side of her is another orange Twi’lek woman, though she looks older, and on the other is a light green, elderly Twi’lek man. 

Stride, upon seeing her face, almost crumbles to his knees. “Shara?” 

She steps closer to him. “I wanted you to meet him. My son.” 

He looks from the bundle of blankets, to her, and back to the blankets. “Your son?” He steps closer as well and sees the small Twi’lek-human baby fast asleep. He is speckled, orange and tan, with small lumps on the top of his bald head. 

“Mhm,” she hums. “That night… you said family can be whoever I wanted it to be. I never went to Naboo and befriended trees. But I did call my parents. And we built a nursery for him and we love him. A small glimmer of hope in this vast, tragic galaxy.”

“He’s so small,” Stride whispers. 

“Would you like to hold him?” She extends her arms. 

“Oh, I don’t--”

“Take the baby, Stride,” Puck chides from beside him. 

Swallowing down his fear, Stride reaches out and she sets the baby in his arms with only a few minor adjustments. He doesn’t weigh much more than a bucket. “Does he have a name?” He whispers. Nat borns give names to their kids right after they’re born, but he looks so small, so fragile. He can’t imagine a name that would fit him now _and_ in adulthood. 

“Stri’dapak. But we call him ‘Stride’ for short. I… I tried to combine both of your names,” she laughs. “But I could hardly name my son Puck. I’m sorry.”

Puck is peering over his brother’s shoulder at the slumbering bundle. “That’s okay. He’s so small.”

“He’s only a few weeks old,” she smiles. “He’s a fighter, just like you both.”

“You mean, like you,” Stride says, looking up at her. 

She beams. “I wouldn’t be alive without either of you. Thank you so much for what you did that night. I will forever be in your debt.”

Puck reaches around his brother and wiggles his fingers at the waking baby. His eyes are big and brown just like his mother’s. Stride is overwhelmed with a feeling to just… hold the baby closer to his chest. He wants to hold this baby and rock him to sleep and calm him after he cries. 

Clearing his throat, Stride hands the baby back to Shara. “Thank you for coming by. We were both worried about you.” 

“And I, you,” she smiles. “I hope you are both doing well?”

“Yeah,” Puck pats Stride’s pauldron. “We got promoted not too long ago.”

“Oh?” She smiles. “Am I friends with two ranking officers now?” 

Stride snorts. “I wish. No, we’re just Corporals. Mostly we just have to do some paperwork every now and again. Nothing too strenuous or out of the usual.”

She reaches over and touches his arm. “Stay safe. I hope our paths cross again in the future.” 

He nods, but doesn’t promise anything as he wistfully watches them depart. 

“Don’t even think it,” Puck murmurs from beside him. 

“What?” Stride turns and makes his way back down the hall to the training room. He definitely isn’t going to be able to go back to sleep now.

“I saw the way you looked at that tyke and _her_. Don’t think it. We’re clones.” 

“Believe me,” Stride sighs. “I don’t need reminded of that.” 

“I’m just saying. That kind of life? It will never be one we get to know.” 

Stride hooks his thumb over his shoulder to the training room. “Wanna come beat me up?” 

“Sure, maybe I can knock some sense into you while I’m at it.” 

“Puck?” 

He hums in acknowledgement as they strip out of the top half of their armor and step onto the training mat. 

“What would you want to do? If we weren’t clones.” 

Puck scrubs his face. “I dunno. Never really thought about it. Why?” 

“Just wondering.” 

Puck reaches across to his brother and adjusts his stance. In all the years they have trained and practiced hand to hand combat, Stride always keeps his left elbow a little wide. “Stop wondering and keep that elbow in.” 

He does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puck and Stride save a woman who attempts to end her own life. In the end, Fox promotes them for their willingness to save a civvie at all costs. She comes by many months later, after she has given birth and names her son after them. I know Twi'lek's use apostrophes sometimes in names, so I kinda just smashed their names together XD it doesn't work but it's star wars. There are crazier names out there. 
> 
> As per usual, thank you so much for reading! If you all have any ideas of more shenanigans these two will get into, send them my way! 
> 
> Next chapter, the boys will be getting their sweet, sweet revenge. See you then! :3


	7. Sweet, Sweet Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is had.

Puck, Stride, and Chase gather around Puck and Stride’s bunk. Romeo and Tango squads share a bunk row, meaning they must be extra stealthy in this planning session. 

“So what’s the plan?” Chase asks, squeezing closer to Puck. 

“I don’t know where he gets it, or what he does  _ to _ get it, but Trapper uses fancy shampoo to maintain the bleach in his hair.” Puck only knows this because he has been paying a gross amount of attention to Trapper’s hair routine. With a lucky win at sabaac and an even luckier score with a nice civvie, Puck has apprehended some red hair dye. He decided, a few weeks ago, that he wanted to dye his hair CG red, but hasn’t quite worked up the courage to do it. Sure, he will run up twenty flights of stairs to save a civvie, or straight into blaster fire to save a brother. But dye his hair and possibly lose every ounce of his reputation he has earned? 

Hard pass. 

So here they stand, with a bottle of red hair dye and a plan. “We need to apprehend Trap’s shampoo and add some of this shit into it. But not all of it. If we do all of it, I think it would just turn his hair orange.” The back of the bottle says for more pigment, add more dye. “But if we just do a little, it should dye his hair fluorescent pink.” 

Chase grins. “I can do it. Get the bottle I mean.” 

“We have to be sneaky,” Puck emphasizes. As much as they all love Chase, subtly is not his strong suit. “Maybe Stride should do it, no one ever suspects him.” 

Stride sputters, trying to deny it. 

“Oh come one, Stride. You’re the good, innocent one. Everyone loves you and would never suspect you of foul play,” Puck rationalizes. 

Stride snatches the bottle out of Puck’s hands. “I’ll do it. Just to prove I can do something bad.” 

“This isn’t bad.” Puck grins, “This is revenge.” 

~

Stride steps into the ‘fresher just as Trapper is stepping out with all of his toiletries. Stride collides into him, sending both of their belongings flying. 

“Oh dang,” Stride curses, crouching down and gathering up their stuff. “Sorry about that Trap. Got my head in the clouds.” 

Trapper smiles and accepts his stuff without looking. “No problem. Do you have patrol tonight?” 

“You know it,” Stride returns his smile, trying to seem natural. 

“Cool, see you then.” And Trapper leaves. Stride rushes into the shower stall. 

He hears the 'fresher door open and a quiet whisper of his name. 

"Here," he whispers back. 

Puck hands him the dye over the stall door. Stride quickly adds the red dye to the shampoo, careful no to spill any and save as much as he can for Puck’s hair. With deft fingers, he screws the lid back onto the shampoo bottle and makes sure he didn't leave any evidence. “Good?” He hears Puck ask from the other side. 

“Good,” he says and opens the door. 

~

Stride slips into the barracks and to their bunk row. He easily identifies Trapper’s things and adds his shampoo to the basket of toiletries. He keeps repeating to himself to remain calm, remain calm, remain calm. 

“Hey?” Trapper asks as Stride closes the lid to his footlocker. “Uh... why are you in my footlocker?”

Stride grabs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I should have just asked.” 

“Yeah… What’s up, vod’ika?”

Stride hates it when people call him that. He’s just as old, if not  _ older _ than half the company. “Well… Puck has been talking about dying his hair… and I won a game of sabaac the other night. I just wanted to see what brand of bleach you use… Your hair just looks so cool,” Stride keeps his eyes  _ firmly _ averted for that bit. He considers himself a passable liar, but  _ only _ when he isn’t making eye contact. Shamelessly, he uses his innocence to his advantage. He is just poor, little ole Stride. Everyone’s favorite vod’ika. He just wants to do his best for his big brother. 

Gag. 

“Oh for sure! Uh,” Trapper goes and pulls out his hair kit… along with the bottle Stride has just replaced. “I use this brand bleach, and this shampoo. It helps maintain the color once it’s been treated.” Trapper claps his shoulder pauldron. “Puck is going to be so happy. He’s been talking about dying his hair since he landed here.” 

Stride grins innocently. “You think? Man, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

That. Is the complete truth. 

~

The distraught roar can be heard halfway across the barracks. Puck, Stride, and Chase all leap up and dash across the hall to the ‘freshers to get a look. Of course, they bring their buckets along for the cams. 

Trapper charges out of the ‘fresher like a royally pissed gundark. His hair? Such a shade of fluorescent pink that Puck is pretty sure he glows in the dark now. 

“WHICH ONE OF YOU BLASTER FODDER DI’KUTE DID THIS!?” He bellows. Everyone in a five klick radius turns tail and runs. His face is slowly reddening into a darker shade of his hair. 

“I saw Jek running that way,” Chase supplies, pointing to the left. 

“He’s gonna fuckin’ get it,” Trapper growls, storming down the hall in just a towel and his eye-aching hair. 

Once he is out of earshot the three of them erupt with laughter. “Did you see him!?” Chase exclaims, jumping up and down. “Did you fucking see him!?”

“He can definitely direct traffic with that hair now,” Stride laughs. 

“Now I’m even more scared to dye my hair,” Puck moans. “Did you see how pink that was?” 

“It was only pink because the base was white. Besides, we didn’t use the whole bottle.” Stride slings his arm around his brothers’ shoulders. “Well boys? How does the revenge taste?”

“So fucking sweet,” Chase grins. “Come on, let’s go see what he’s doing to Jek.” 

Serves him right, too, for calling Chase a gearhead. “Let’s.” Puck guides them down the hall. 


	8. Morale Exercise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox plans a morale exercise, but the results are not as he expected.

Everyone is gathered in one of the hangars for a morale booster. All of the Coruscant Guard has been divided into three different groups and assigned to a commanding officer. Except Fox. Puck doesn’t blame him, he is probably entirely too busy to participate in such frivolous affairs, but still. 

It would be nice to at least _see_ him up close. 

“Everyone!” Commander Thorn calls from the front of the room. For once they haven’t been assigned to Thire and Puck doesn’t know whether or not to be grateful. Thire, he has noticed, has a tendency to be a little uptight. “We are going to do a little morale booster and team-building exercise. A lot of you are still a little shiny, but that’s okay. You’ll get there. Lieutenant Flip and Sergeant Dodger are passing out cards right now. Civilians are ramping up to celebrate a holiday where people let each other know how much they care and we are going to do the same. Everyone gets two cards. I want everyone to write something nice and put in the recipient’s foot locker. Are there any questions?” 

A trooper who Puck doesn’t know raises his hand and Thorn nods. “What happens, sir, if you don’t receive any cards?” 

“Well,” he rocks back on his heels. “You let me know if that happens and we’ll leave it at that.” 

Puck accepts his two heart-shaped cards and pen from Flip. “What are you going to write on mine?” Puck asks Stride. 

Stride looks over and arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was going to give you one?” 

Puck sputters. “But--” 

“Puck, this is a _morale_ booster. You know how much I appreciate you. We grew up together, but there are men who might not know that.” 

“Like who?” Puck asks, genuinely trying to think of a single member of the guard who doesn’t know his worth. 

“Well, Commander Fox for starters and probably Lieutenant Fort.” 

He leans forward staring at Stride. “Do you seriously think Fox doesn’t know he is appreciated?” 

“Do you think anyone ever thanks him? When was the last time you even saw him?”

Puck hates to admit it, but Stride probably has a point. Commander Fox is _always_ around, he mostly speaks with the commanding officers, but he is always around. Being everyone’s go-to is probably a thankless job. “Okay, so what are you going to say?” 

Stride shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking about just saying thanks, that we appreciate him and stuff.” 

“And stuff?”

“I dunno. What would you say?” 

“Thanks for the promotion?” 

Stride wipes his hands down his face. “Did the Kaminoans forget to give you a kriffing heart? Come on, be a little more genuine.” 

Puck thinks about Commander Fox. The one interaction he actually had with him was when he was promoted. He had said that their safety was his biggest concern, so much so that he made up a new reg to make sure they patrolled in pairs. No trainer, Kaminoan, or nat born had ever given enough fucks to do that. “What about… What about thanks for caring?” 

Stride looks at him skeptically. 

Puck stumbles through explaining his logic to his brother. He has never been good at this, but it makes sense. Fox cares enough to make up rules to protect them. He’s not entirely certain there is anything Fox _wouldn’t_ do to protect them. 

Trapper saunters over, his fluorescent hair fading into a softer, lighter pink. “Who are you guys writing to?” 

“Commander Fox,” Stride answers, tongue sticking out a little as he concentrates on whatever he is doing. 

“Oh? Kissing ass?” 

“I’d watch your mouth before you end up with a missing eyebrow to go with your blinding hair,” Puck threatens. 

Trapper levels a glare. “That’s not very brotherly of you, Puck.” 

“Then don’t accuse us of kissing ass when our Commander would probably die for any one of us. Be grateful for once in your fucking tube-bred life.” 

Trap rolls his eyes. “He’s a hard ass. He’s constantly putting Tango squad on KP duty.” 

“That’s because Tango is constantly fucking up. He’s not gonna put you out into patrols when you're a hazard to society and your patrol mates.”

Trapper takes a step away. “Whatever, Puck.”

Stride puts the finishing touches on his card. “I’ll shave his eyebrows if you want me to. We can take all of his blacks, get them wet, and put them in a freezer.”

Puck pats his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll grow up eventually.” 

~

They walk into the main office where Fort’s desk is. Puck wrote his letters for Fox and Thire because they both put up with so, _so_ much. Stride, he is pretty sure, wrote to Fort and Fox. Stride slips the card onto Fort’s desk while he is turned away and they continue their way down to Fox’s office. 

“Should we knock?” Stride asks. 

“Nah, let’s just slip it under the door. I don’t want to stand here when he reads it.” As they turn to leave, they run into Trapper, and the rest of Tango squad. 

“What’re you doing here?” Puck asks, suddenly very protective over Fox’s office. He’ll be fucking damned if Trapper has come to steal the commander’s letters because he is a hard ass. 

Trapper holds up his letter. “I decided you were right. I wrote Fox a letter. Told him thanks for being tough on us, it will only make us better men. Can I?” he motions to the door. 

Puck steps aside and Trapper slips it under the door. 

Straightening, he turns to Puck. “Look, I’m sorry. I was being a real ass earlier and I just wanted to apologize.”

Puck nods. “It’s cool. I hope to see you guys on patrol here soon.” 

Trapper extends his hand and Puck accepts, grabbing his vambrace and giving his arm a firm shake. 

~

Fox probably shouldn’t be this exhausted at the beginning of the war. He knows they were bred to be irreplaceable, but this is almost unbearable. He has been through command training, but he doesn’t think he has ever been more tired in his life. 

He stumbles down the hall to his office, telling himself that he has forms that need filled out, but knowing he will probably pass out as soon as he sits down. He types in the code to his office, steps over the threshold and curses himself for being so unaware when his boot doesn’t hit hard duracrete, but instead something crinkly and soft. 

He looks down. 

Letters? 

And a shit ton of them. He bends down and scoops up the pieces of multi-colored, heart-shaped flimsi. He plops down in his desk chair and opens the first letter. 

_Commander, we have to write notes of appreciation for a morale exercise. I’ve never spoken to you in person, but I just wanted you to know you’re appreciated - Priv. Reese_

He had organized this morale exercise. He wanted the shinies to feel welcome, even if a lot of them weren’t all that shiny anymore. 

He opens the next one. 

_Commander, I know you work tirelessly, but I just wanted to take a moment to let you know that we appreciate everything you do for us behind the scenes. You are the first person that has ever given a damn and for that, I want to say thank you. I hope you are taking care of yourself - Corporal Stride._

He can’t help but continue on to the next card. 

_Commander, you probably weren’t expecting to get a card from me. I just wanted to thank you for being so hard on us. I realize I’m definitely not the perfect trooper, but I know that if I work to be more like you, then everything will be alright - Priv. Trapper._

_Commander - take care of yourself. We care for you as much as you care for us. Respectfully - Corporal Puck_. 

They go on and on and on. There has to be some fifty cards here. He doesn’t deserve this kindness. 

He has the best men in the damn GAR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh! Thank you so much for reading <33 I wanted to do a small Valentine's day special, I hope you guys enjoyed it! 
> 
> If you have any ideas of what should happen next to our Corrie Guard Bois send them my way and I will try to write a drabble for it! <3


	9. Distinguishing Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are forgotten tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a true story. 
> 
> Reader warnings:  
> Brief, but not explicit, mentions of nudity  
> Healthy use of the f-bomb

Commander Stone stands in front of them, arms tucked behind his back. “Welcome to your first prison duty, men. Here, we guard Coruscant’s worst. I’m talking murderers, bounty hunters, terrorists. We have a strict standard operating procedure and I expect each and everyone of you to follow that procedure to the fucking letter. Am I understood?”

“Sir yessir!” Romeo and Tango squads snap their heels together. 

“Excellent. I’ve sent the procedures to your datapads. Tango squad you have day shift. Romeo, you have night shift. In two weeks we'll switch. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask your squadron leaders, Flip and Dodger. Dismissed.” 

Romeo squad makes their way back to the barracks, walking five wide. “Pierce, how’s the neck?” Hex asks as they walk. 

“Fine.” His voice is a lot deeper and scratchier than before. Apparently his vocal cords were damaged in the attack. They healed, but the scar tissue has left him sounding way cooler than he is. “I have a badass scar now.”

“They say chicks dig scars,” Chase supplies, turning to walk backwards down the hall and face them. “We should test the theory one night. How about we have a squad night at 79’s?”

“I’ll rush out to do that with all my free time,” Puck grumbles. 

“You’re the di’kut that got yourself promoted,” Chase retorts easily. “Come on, guys. After our bout with prison duty, let’s do something fun! We deserve it. Especially now that Pierce is back with us!”

“I think it could be fun,” Stride supplies. 

“Let’s just… try to survive these next couple weeks,” Pierce says. They all fall silent, thinking on Pierce’s close call. After Geonosis, they all had a dose of reality, but almost losing a squad mate was too close of a call. 

One day at a time. 

~

“What the fuck is this?” Puck looks at the prisoner roster. There is an inmate who has been sitting in holding since the _start_ of day shift. “What the fuck was Tango squad doing?”

“Probably jackin’ off,'' Hex mumbles, shoving the leftover ration trays left in the office. “Fuckin’ slobs.”

“Stride, let’s go get this guy booked,” Puck tosses the datapad roster onto the desk. “Pierce, you’re in charge. If someone needs a pickup send Chase and Hex.” 

“It’s my first day back on active duty. Are you sure you want me in charge?” Pierce asks, straightening. 

“Positive,” Puck says. “Let’s go.” He jerks his head to the door and Stride is up and following him in an instant. 

Standard operating procedure states that each prisoner needs to be bathed before they get put into general population. Holding is towards the front of the prison center and is next to the small room where they do intake and showering. 

Puck and Stride walk down to holding and peer through the red ray shield. 

The guy is covered, head to toe, in blood. “What the fuck,” Puck breathes into his mic. The helmet comm barely picks it up, meaning the prisoner definitely didn’t hear it. 

“Lon Loth?” Puck asks the man sitting there.

He looks absolutely deranged. He is staring at the wall muttering to himself and rocking slightly. He looks up to them and starts laughing maniacally. “Lonnie. Call me Lonnie.”

“Come on, Lonnie. We’re taking you to intake,” Puck says and Stride powers down the shield. 

Lonnie gets up and climbs up the stairs. Puck and Stride sandwich him between them and they walk the short distance to the office and usher him to a stool. On one side of the room is the computer station where they take the intake information, and on the other side is the open shower. Getting put in prison is not a very private process. 

Stride goes up to the computer and Puck stands guard at the doorway. 

“State your name for the record,” Stride requests. 

“Lon Loth.”

“Age?” 

“38 standard.” 

“Do you have any health conditions?”

“Oh, I have a bad back from carrying around this massive cock.” 

Stride stops typing and looks over to him. “I’ll have it noted that your back is perfectly fine.” Puck chokes on a laugh; thank the stars he had the foresight to turn off his helmet mic when they walked in here. 

Lonnie scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Do you have any distinguishing marks or features?” Stride questions. 

“Nope.” 

“Are there any warrants for your arrest within the Republic?”

“Not yet.” 

“Are you associated with any gangs or syndicates?”

“Nope.” 

“Great. Stand against this wall,” Stride motions to the wall with lines painted on it to mark height. 

Lonnie gets up and shuffles over. “Should I smile?” He asks. 

“If you want to,” Stride says and clicks the picture before he even gets a chance. “Awesome. Please remove all clothes and personal items.”

“Don’t you want to buy me dinner first?” 

“I’m not going to ask again,” Stride grouses and Lonnie, in a way that Puck imagines is supposed to be sensually, starts stripping for them. 

“Tough crowd,” Lon says as he removes his socks. “But it always works better with music.” 

“Please step over there,” Stride directs him to the open fresher-- it has a singular spigot suspended from the ceiling and no shower curtain. Puck personally doesn’t know why prison intake is so public, but they have a strict SOP and they are gonna stick with it. If Stone’s dressing downs are anything like Fox’s-- Puck would like to do everything possible to avoid one. 

Lonnie turns on the ‘fresher and starts cleaning himself off with a few pumps from the soap canister attached to the wall. He hums obnoxiously to himself, and when he is done with he turns to rinse himself off. 

All of the mental cogs turning in Puck’s head screech to a halt. He can tell by the way that Stride does a double take that his brother has just noticed the same thing. 

Right there, on Lonnie’s left butt cheek, is none other than the Jedi grandmaster himself, Yoda. 

Puck squawks with laughter as Stride clears his throat. “Lonnie? Is that a tattoo of Yoda on your ass?” 

Normally, Stride never swears, but Puck can hear the rising disbelief and pure, unadulterated exasperation leaking into his voice. 

Lonnie turns to look at his ass. “Huh, I s’pose it is.” 

“Wouldn’t you think that counts as a distinguishing mark or feature?” 

“Guess I forgot.” He shrugs and goes back to rinsing. 

“How do you forget that you have the kriffing Jedi grandmaster tattooed on your ass cheek!?” Stride exclaims. 

Lonnie laughs. “Eh, he’s a slippery lil bastard. Constantly slipping my mind.” 

With a heavy sigh, Stride turns back to the console and adds that bit of information. The man, thankfully, finishes washing up quickly and they escort him to his official cell. He only makes a few more suggestive comments, but once they turn on the ray shield, he quiets down and lays on his cot. 

~

Back in the command center, Romeo squad looks hard at work. Chase is reclined back in his chair, throwing pencils at the ceiling tiles while Hex and Pierce scroll through the radio to try and find a good station. 

“Well?” Hex asks when they return. 

Chase sits up. “How was your first prisoner?” 

“Karking insane,” Stride grumbles and goes over to the radio console. 

Their squad falls silent, expecting a terrible, harrowing story of how they narrowly escaped death-- 

“He had fucking Yoda tattooed on his ass and forgot about it," Puck explains.

The silence lasts for only a second longer before everyone erupts into laughter, even Stride. 

“Guys, guys! I know what my first tattoo will be!” Chase proclaims, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“For the love of fuck, please don’t do it,” Hex gasps between breaths. 

“No! It’ll be perfect. When I win races they’ll just see a blur of Yoda’s green wrinkly face. It’s fucking brilliant.” 

“Are you going to be participating in these races buck ass naked?” Hex asks, still wheezing. 

“I might!” Chase proclaims. “Wait! No! I’ll paint his face on the buttplate of my armor! Fuck this is amazing, I need a drawing pad.” 

“Thire is seriously never going to approve that, vod,” Stride shakes his head. 

“Thire can kiss Yoda’s wrinkly rendition on my buttplate.” 

Pierce, still laughing, wipes tears from his eyes. “I’ve missed you guys.” 

Puck walks over and rests a gentle hand on Pierce’s pauldron. “We’ve missed you too, glad to have you back.” 

The comm on their station buzzes. “We need a pick up at the intersection of I-4540 and J-0009. Male arsonist arrested, possible seppie ties.” 

Hex stands. “Come on, Chase, let’s move it.” 

Chase groans, motioning to his napkin. “But my design!” 

“I’ll go.” Pierce stands. “I’ve had enough of light duty. Can’t wait to see your design when I get back, vod.” He grabs his bucket and follows Hex out the door. 

Stride looks down at Chase. “You are absolutely not painting Yoda on your buttplate.” 

“Watch me,” Chase says with a feral grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
